


Still Standing

by Python07



Series: Kingsman Meets Craiglang [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Still Game (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just after the red haze lifts on V-Day -- sequel to Still Fierce</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Standing

The red haze lifted and Jack stood still, rooted to the spot. His heart was still pounding in his chest and his muscles were still tense. He looked down at his shaking hands. There was blood on his knuckles and his clothes were disheveled.

Jack leaned against the wall. He forced himself to take a deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palms flat against the faded wallpaper. “It’s been a few years since I’ve had this feelin’. I’m too old for this shite.”

He took a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes. He frowned at the state of his flat. His television and coffee table were broken and his favorite chair overturned. There were papers scattered over the floor. He picked up his wedding photo from the floor. Thankfully, the glass wasn’t cracked and he put it back on the wall.

He glanced up at the hidden camera. He offered a pained smile. “You must have done it. Good lad. Now, let me out to check on Victor.”

A second later, the lock clicked on the front door. Jack stuck his head out and quickly scanned the landing. It was empty and intact. “Turned off the lift, too. Good thinking, Alec.” 

Jack crossed the three steps to Victor’s door. He knocked briskly and let himself in. “Victor, are ye all right?”

“A little worse for wear, but I’m still here,” Victor answered wearily.

Jack walked into Victor’s sitting room to find the coffee table overturned. The couch cushions were scattered over the floor. The main window was broken, letting in a cold draft. He shivered. “Where’s your telly?”

Victor sat on the floor, his back against the couch. He was shaking. He tilted his head towards the window. “I chucked it.”

Jack tried for a light tone but failed miserably. “I thought the Incredible Hulk was green.” 

Victor looked up at Jack mournfully. “I could nae control myself. Alec was right. If we were together, we would’ve torn each other apart. I just wanted to hurt somebody. I did nae care who.”

“I know.” Jack whistled and shook his head. “My place is also in a right state.”

Victor rubbed his temples and sighed heavily. “Oh, Jack.”

Jack went to the sideboard for a bottle of scotch. He glanced into the kitchen and saw the broken glass on the floor. “You didn’t cut yersel, did ye?”

“No.”

Jack groaned softly as he knelt down to retrieve an afghan from the floor. He circled back to Victor and handed him the bottle. Then he shook the afghan out to make sure there was no glass. He eased onto the floor next to Victor and wrapped it around the both of their shoulders. “That rage was maddening.”

“All encompassin’,” Victor agreed as he unconsciously leaned into Jack. He noticed Jack’s hands. “Jack, yer bleedin’.”

Jack looked down at his knuckles and flexed his fingers. “Scrapped up good and all, but not broken.”

Victor opened the bottle, took a swig, and passed it to Jack. “I suppose we’re lucky we did nae injure oursels too badly.”

“Aye. A little bruised up. A little sore.” Jack took a drink and passed the bottle back. “Clean up’s gonna be a bastard, though.”

“True,” Victor agreed ruefully.

Jack snickered and took another drink. 

“What are ye laughin’ at?”

Jack handed the bottle back. “I was jus thinkin’ that we still got the talent.”

“What talent?” Victor asked, puzzled.

Jack lowered his voice and leaned in close to Victor’s ear. “For mayhem, Gareth.”

Victor let out a startled laugh. “Aye. I suppose that is something to be proud of, Gawain.”

“You boys have room for one more?” a voice asked timidly.

They looked up to see Isa standing in the doorway. She shifted her weight uneasily from foot-to-foot. Her eyes darted around everywhere except for at them. Her glasses sat crooked on her face, her hair stuck up in all directions, and there was a bruise blooming on her jaw. Her blouse was ripped and she was covered in flour.

Jack held his arm out. “Come on, hen,” he said gently.

None of them knew that Merlin was sitting on the plane at Valentine’s bunker, smiling at the view as he spoke to his sister. “I’m pleased ye and the family are all right, Fi…Da and Victor are as well as can be expected. They didn’t create too much chaos. I thought it would be much worse…” He chuckled softly. “Yes, they’re in their seventies, but two minutes is plenty of time for two former Kingsman agents in a blind rage to wreak havoc.”


End file.
